


as midnight strikes

by maddy_does (favefangirl)



Series: carry on countdown 2020 [28]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28241814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favefangirl/pseuds/maddy_does
Summary: Just as Baz is contemplating whether he can realistically get away with sneaking upstairs regardless of the party, the house keeper shuffles over to him, awkwardly. And Simon Snow is at the door.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: carry on countdown 2020 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026733
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	as midnight strikes

**Author's Note:**

> Carry On Countdown Day 28, Dec 22: Party

Baz checks his reflection in the mirror one final time before deciding that it actually doesn't even matter which suit he wears, they're all uncomfortable, and since he doesn't even want to be at the party anyway, it's pretty irrelevant what he shows up in. He wouldn't be going at all if it wasn't being held in his living room, and if he thought his parents would let him get away with not making an appearance. Alas, he's going whether he liked it or not.

At around 7 Daphne comes to his door. He barely supresses a role of his eyes as she coos about how handsome he looks, straightening his already immaculate collar, and tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He almost laughs when she then asks him to go help in the kitchen with the hors d'oeuvres, because of course she was only buttering him up for something. He agrees anyway, because he knows how excited she is for this party, and it's not her fault he's not exactly feeling the spirit of the evening.

He's trying not to think about what happened, even though it's played on his mind every waking moment since. Baz had attended Watford Boarding School for eight years, living for that entire time with the human disaster that calls itself Simon Snow. They had been at each other's throats consistently from the moment they met, bickering, fighting, trying to kill one another (though Baz still maintains that that's just Simon being hyperbolic). Living with Simon was like have a noisy, disobedient, stubborn, messy animal in the room, given that he hadn't given Baz a moment's peace since they day they moved in. The kind of animal that despite all those things, you'd quite like to slip the tongue.

So maybe that metaphor wasn't exactly perfect, but neither was Baz, and certainly neither were the feelings he harboured for Simon. If Baz ever met the fifteen year old version of himself, he couldn't promise not to throttle him, though realistically he's been at least half in love with Simon since long before that. It's a bizarre combination, being in love with someone you hate, and to answer the obvious, yes Baz does feel like he's going mad.

He copes, though. Or, he had done. He avoided their room, and he made Simon shower in the morning so Baz would be out if he emerged damp, wrapped in only a towel (though that might just be on of Baz's questionable fantasies). He was good at making sure they spent enough time apart that they didn't _actually_ kill each other. Then, during the holidays when he was back in his own, cold, ~~lonely~~ , room, he would try and wank away his feelings until he got frustrated. He'd resigned himself to this no-man's land of feeling, watching Simon fall in and out of a relationship with Agatha Wellbelove, then pine after her all hours of the day. Maybe it's the resignation that has him so on edge today. Maybe it's the fact that he'd just come to terms with the inevitability that he would always have these unreciprocated feelings, when Simon, in true idiotic fashion, decided to completely usurp Baz's notion of reality, and tip on its head everything Baz had decided as his future. 

He'd been out for a walk in the school grounds - his go to method of avoiding Simon, and the most fruitful after long library sessions - when he'd felt a hand an his arm. He was spun around and came face to face with Simon, their noses mere centimetres apart. Baz was so shocked that he didn't even have to to lament the peaceful walk he was trying to enjoy. Simon started going off about something barely intelligible, though Baz managed to catch both his name and Agatha's, and from that pieced together some farce about a relationship the two of them would never have (despite how much joy it would bring his father if they did).

Baz had scoffed and tried to turn away, but Simon had gripped him harder to keep him rooted to the spot. He half expected Simon to punch him. They were well-known for their sporadic fist-fights, but instead Simon did something completely miraculous. Instead of hitting him and putting them both out of their misery, he'd _kissed_ him!

Simon kissed like he did just about everything else - angrily, this side of too rough, and with an endearing kind of desperation. But it was a good kiss. It was a great kiss, actually, and Baz isn't prepared to interrogate how much of that was purely down to the fact that it had been Simon. That felt like dangerous fifth year territory that he isn't about to delve back into. 

Simon had pulled away from the kiss and looked just as shocked as Baz felt about what he'd done. He floundered for a moment for something to say, a staple Simon Snow conversation trick, before storming off in the opposite direction, leaving Baz behind, utterly dumbfounded. He's pressed his fingertips gently against his lips, feeling that they'd grown slightly puffy from the pressure, and exhaled shakily. 

He'd continued his walk, taking the scenic route to try and process what had just happened. Simon had really just kissed him. Eight years and countless hours of sleep lost over the feelings Baz tried to supress, and he'd gone and kissed him out of the blue in the middle of the courtyard. Baz thought it was bad etiquette for Simon to have run off like that without so much as an explanation as to what just happened, but he'd never been kissed before, so he couldn't be sure.

He returned to their room once he'd at least processed that the kiss had happened, whatever came next. He opened the door to find Simon sat on his bed, cross legged, frowning at the wall. He jerked his head to look at Baz as the door slammed closed behind him, and his mouth dropped open. Baz had rolled his eyes, said something about catching flies, and went into their toilet, more to give himself a break from Simon's company than anything. He had no clue how to navigate their relationship anymore, not when he'd just figure out how to deal with his unrequited feelings, and now this!

He threw some cold water on his face and told his reflection to stop being such a prick, and to go in there and just talk to him. He patted his face dry with a towel, straightened out his school tie, and decided the brave whatever conversation came next. By the time he emerged from the bathroom, Simon hadn't moved. Baz cleared his throat and went about putting away the school work he'd been doing earlier.

"About- _that_ \- I-" Simon stuttered. Baz looked over and saw he was staring at the floor, tearing a hand through his hair in a way that pulled on his scalp and could only be uncomfortable. "It wasn't anything," he finally managed, pressing his lips together and frowning.

Baz snorted, unkindly. "You go around kissing all your enemies, do you?"

Simon finally looked up, affronted. "Was it something for you?"

Baz sniffed and looked away. "If I was going to swing your way, Snow, it would be violently. With a blunt object." Simon was silent for long enough after that that Baz began to get suspicious. He braved a glance over at him to find that he was already staring back, head tilted. "Take a photograph, Snow," Baz deadpanned, rolling his eyes and turning away so Simon couldn't see him blushing.

"You kissed back," Simon stated, ignoring Baz's jibe.

"What are you blathering on about now?" Baz huffed, finally putting his textbooks away. With nothing left to do with his hands, he crossed his arms over his chest and raised a Pitch eyebrow at him, hoping he wasn't as red as he felt.

"You kissed me back," Simon repeated. He nodded as though coming to some kind of conclusion in his head. "You kissed me back which means-"

"You're delusion," Baz accused, sharply.

" _You're_ in love with me," Simon exclaimed, eyes widening, and a small smile forming on his lips as though he was so proud of his deductions.

Baz huffed. "You're being dramatic. And stupid."

Simon shook his head. "No, you _are_!"

Baz had heard enough. His fight or flight response had been activated, and he would choose flight every time. "Don't be ridiculous, Snow." he spat. "What could I ever see in you?"

He stormed out of the room after that, not waiting for Simon's answer. In hindsight it probably wasn't the best move as it made him look guilty, even though he was pretty sure Simon had already, impossibly, come to the correct conclusion anyway. So thick he spent two years confusing Jane Austen and Jane Eyre, but somehow smart enough to figure out Baz's feelings, damn him. Baz became an expert at avoiding him after that, leaving their room before Simon woke up, and not returning again until long after Simon had gone to sleep. He managed to make the whole last week of term without being left alone with him once, which he was considering a definitive win. He's pointedly not thinking about the fact that they'll be spending the rest of the year sharing eight feet of space, and that his elusion strategies are not sustainable for that length of time.

He's not supposed to be thinking about Simon, or the kiss, at all, but it's been plaguing his mind since it happened. It's like a cycle on repeat first whilst he's working in the kitchen, and then when he's stood on the periphery of the party, clutching a glass of wine like a lifeline. He had kissed back. He kissed back with as much passion and ferocity as Simon had kissed him because he didn't know if it would ever happen again and if that was all he was ever going to get then he was going to make the most of it. Simon had grabbed him by his face, and he hadn't been brave enough to touch him back, but he had kissed him shamelessly.

The party doesn't help take his mind of it, either, because unsurprisingly making stunted small talk with his father's business associates is not his idea of a good time. Plus, his sister finds any opportunity she can to come and tease him for his miserable expression, and the fact that he hasn't been without some kind of alcoholic buoy all night. Baz had told her to piss off, and drunk even more afterwards. 

Just as he's contemplating whether he can realistically get away with sneaking upstairs regardless of the party, the house keeper shuffles over to him, awkwardly. She doesn't meet his eye as she says, "Mr Pitch, there's a man at the door for you."

Baz frowns. He's not expecting company, and at first he wonders if maybe she's got the wrong person, but as he peers around the doorway into the entrance hall, he spots Simon stood awkwardly on the rug by the door, and nearly drops his drink. He smiles tightly as the housekeeper and thanks her before shoving his wine glass on the closest available surface and hurrying over to Simon. He forces himself to take some deep breaths on his way over.

"Snow," he greets, as frostily as he can manage. Simon looks up at Baz, then around at the room, eyes wide, as though somewhere between awe and terror at the place. Baz huffs like it's a chore just to stand here with him and demands, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Simon turns to look at him and offers him a sheepish smile. "It's New Year," he says. Baz stares at him, deadpan, questioning why of all people his heart chose _this_ idiot. 

"And?" he prompts, noticing the confused stares they're garnering from the party guests that pass by, or are loitering around them.

"Well, you're meant to start the new year as you mean to go on," he explains, twisting his hands together.

"And you mean to spend next year," he looks down at the mud caked on his trousers, the dampness of the hems, "wearing my front garden?"

Simon frowns and tilts his head. "No? No, I- I want to spend it with you."

Baz's breath catches in his throat.

"Come on, everyone," Daphne calls, emerging from the living room wearing a painfully large grin. "The countdown's starting soon!"

Before she can catch sight of Simon, Baz rushes forward and grabs his arm to drag him out of the house. He protests all the way to the end of the drive, before he manages to snatch his arm out of Baz's grasp, rubbing his elbow and pouting out him. "You said the kiss didn't mean anything," Baz accuses, not feeling all that guilty about a bruised arm given the emotional turmoil Simon's put him through over the past few weeks.

"I got scared," Simon confesses, dropping his arms. "I never thought I'd want to kiss a bloke, least of all you."

"Charming."

"Well!" Simon protests, "We're hardly best mates, are we! And yeah, alright, you're fit I guess, but I didn't think I was attracted to you."

Baz huffs, feeling himself go red at the compliment. "None of this explains why you've shown up at my door on New Year's Eve wearing my Astroturf."

"Because!" Simon shouts, pulling at his hair. "Because I _am_ attracted to you! And for some reason, I even like you, even though you're a snob, and you're arrogant, and you seem to make it your mission to make everyone miserable. And so I wanted to spend New Year with you, because you're meant to start the year as you mean to go on." Simon shrugs, incredibly earnest, and for the first time in perhaps his whole life, Baz is at a loss for words. Inside the house, the countdown begins.

 _Ten_. 

He doesn't know what to do now. He's been in love with this boy since before he even really knew what love was, and never in all that time did he for one second consider those feelings might be reciprocated.

_Seven._

Simon's smile falters as they stand there, staring at one another, both waiting for the other to react.

_Five._

Baz's hand twitches at his side, but he doesn't dare reach out. He wonders if this is all just a dream - if he's going to wake in the morning in his own bed and find that it's New Year's Eve and there's a party he has to go to where he'll make dull small talk with a bunch of accountants, and the boy of his dreams _won't_ show up and tell him that he's madly in love with him.

_Two._

He wonders if he's supposed to kiss him. That seems like the natural progression from here, and Simon has confessed his feelings, but he still doesn't want to be presumptuous. This fear of touching and asking too much is by now a force of habit, engrained into him totally.

_One._

And then Simon kisses _him_.

It's much the same as before, force and passion mingling as Simon presses their mouths into one another, cupping the sides of Baz's face with a gentleness you wouldn't think he could possess. This time, though, there are literal fireworks exploding in the sky above them, reigning down colour as Baz manages to get with the programme, and kiss back. He manages to get over himself enough to wrap his arms around Simon's waist and pull them closer together as the flares light up the sky behind them. It feels like a dream, and if it is Baz hopes he never wakes up.

The fireworks continue even as Simon pulls away enough to rest their foreheads together. "Happy New Year, Baz," Simon whispers into the space between them.

Baz's mouth twitches into a rare, genuine grin. "Happy New Year, Simon."

**Author's Note:**

> what's this? a COC submission I'm _proud_ of? is this real life?
> 
> anyway, if you wanna leave a comment or a kudos they're much appreciated! especially let me know if there's something you think i forgot to tag! i'm really not sure about the rating?
> 
> i'm taking prompts! if you're interested please drop the prompt in the comments below. if you do send a prompt be prepared for me to take fifty years to fill it because school is so hard (or, i guess, uni now, lol), but i promise i'll try! come say hi on tumblr: [@maddy-does](https://maddy-does.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading, have a wonderful existence.


End file.
